


When You Assume

by MsJackofAllFandoms



Series: The Pamphlet [2]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Asexual Awareness Week, Asexual Character, Assumptions, Background Relationships, F/M, Freddie mercury/Jim hutton - Freeform, Gen, M/M, Minor John Deacon/Veronica Tetzlaff, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rated for sexual connotations, Roger Taylor (Queen)/OC, rated for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28406472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsJackofAllFandoms/pseuds/MsJackofAllFandoms
Summary: Roger and Freddie think they know something, the problem is what they know is not quite what they think they know. Think of this as a Whodunnit type thing, the reader figures it out along with the guys.Background relationship: Freddie/Jim
Series: The Pamphlet [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055189
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18





	1. Monday

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be for Ace!Week. I'm a bit late with it, but better late than never.

“Now remember,” Freddie said as him and Roger laid out their notes for the songs they were going to practice. “If he says anything today, act like you don't know, dear, okay? It’s going to be a surprise.”

Roger sighed, visibly trying to hold back irritation. “Yes Freddie, we've already been over this before.”

Freddie patted him on the shoulder placating, “I know. I know. I'm just nervous for him.” His hands fretted through the air, over the papers and back on his own body. “Oh god I hope he isn't nervous to tell us.” Freddie turned to Roger again. “Now when I say surprise, I mean rather like the time Mrs M’s little girl named her kittens Roger and Brian, okay? Not birthday surprise. You don't want to over sell it. We’re aiming for pleasantly informed not-”

“Fuckin- “ Roger clamped his hands shut and tried to stop himself from shouting. He understood what Freddie was trying to say, the problem was he’d said it all before, a few times over the last twenty four hours. “I get it Freddie! We don't know, so when he tells us, it's like it's brand new information and not a bad thing. I get it. Could you calm down now? Please?” He breathed out and released his hands, really wanting to be the calming influence in the room and not feeding in to a feedback loop that would see the whole day derailed before it could really begin. 

“Oh. Yes.” Freddie straightened himself up and patted Roger on the shoulder again, this time with a placating smile, “Sorry, yes, of course.”

  
They heard the tell tale sign of the big door to their rehearsal space open. They were in the borrowed art performance studio, not currently being used by the university students due to term times, for a small price over the week. There was room for their instruments, a cupboard full of other instruments they had been given permission to use should they want to, a separate nook with tables and chairs, where Roger and Freddie were standing, set up for written work, and a small alcove for sitting and eating. It even had a little kitchenette off the side, fully stocked with the basics by the teaching staff which they had also been given free range to use. Which they did quite happily.

They saw Brian first, with John trailing behind him, both carrying their instruments, and Brian with the Deacy amp in his other hand. John waved through the window and Brian nodded before coming through the door, then Brain put down his guitar and the amp and broke off into the kitchenette area as John came to the table space with his bass.

“Hello! Did you two come here together?” Freddie asked, giving John a hug as soon as the other man placed his bass down.

John shook his head, “No, just arrived here at the same time.”

John, rather animated after a good practical session at uni, told them all about his latest project. Brian came in from the kitchenette with his coffee and sat down, listening intently to John talking as he quietly tuned his guitar.

The rest of the rehearsal session passed by relatively quickly, and pleasantly, though not without their usual bumps of arguing over the set list for their up and coming performance.

  
Hours later, when afternoon had turned to dusk and they’d all left the studio, Roger closed the flat door behind himself and rubbed his hands. It seemed colder inside than it had been outside, and they couldn’t afford to put the heating on. Neither he nor Freddie were looking forward to making an evening meal but at least the oven would warm up the flat a bit if they could find something to heat up in it.

Freddie smiled as Roger entered the kitchen. Roger nodded and went straight to the fridge for the milk for a cup of tea. Freddie took the initiative and filled the kettle of water and plugged it in at the wall before turning it on at the mains.

“He didn't tell us today.” Freddie murmured sadly.

Roger sighed, “I know.”

“The poor dear…” Freddie said, trailing off. 

“There's always tomorrow.” Roger said brightly, trying to be positive for all the situations they were dealing with right now, though his mind was more focused on the almost empty cupboards and veg rack than either of their band mates. There was nothing he could do there, but he could certainly russell up something to eat. 

“Yes… Jacket potatoes with beans on top?”

Roger clapped Freddie on the back. “Yes, now we’re talking!” 

All other matters were put to the back of their minds as they sorted their tea and food out, waiting to be picked up again the next day, when they weren’t so tired, hungry or cold.


	2. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More rehearsing, more set list drama, more hot drinks imbibed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The clocks went back for the end of the Daylight Savings Time on the 25th of October this year, and Asexuality Awareness Week started on the 25th.

Freddie looked up and over as John entered the rehearsal space’s main room. “Good morning dear, how are you?”

John nodded and placed his bass down on one of the available guitar stands and came over to where Freddie was at the table area, where sheets full of lyrics and songs and set lists were spread across the table in front of them, much like the day before. “Yeah, i’m good, Freddie, how are you? Where’s Roger and Bri?”

Roger came in from the kitchenette area holding two steaming mugs. “I'm here, ‘was just making some tea. Brian's not here yet.”

“Ah.”

Roger passed one of the mugs to Freddie and set his down on the table before sitting down. Freddie thanked him and answered John’s question. “I’m good too, dear. Wanting to get this set list down for definite, though. Any more opinions to share? Demands? ”

“No, not more than yesterday. Keep  _ Liar _ and  _ Doing Alright _ where they are, that’s all I’m asking for.”

Freddie smiled, “Wise man.”

Just as Freddie marked an asterisk down on the set list they were hovering over, somewhat unnecessarily, the external door sprung open and Brian rushed in, hair bouncing in the fray. The door closed heavily behind him and he rushed passed the window to come into the main area of the rehearsal space. 

“Sorry I'm late.” He announced, waving at them all, putting his guitar down on a nearby chair instead of one of the stands. “Give me a minute to make coffee and i’ll be-”

“I'll make you one, Bri,” Roger said, getting up from the table and heading towards the kitchen. “You set up.”

“Oh you sure?” Brian asked, looking at Roger and ready to follow, but Roger continued on to the kitchenette. “Thanks Rog.”

Brian sat down and picked his guitar up, fussing with the strap before putting it around his neck. 

“And what made  _ you _ late, dear?” Freddie asked, fuelled by curiosity. Brian was usually on time, if not early, despite hating early mornings. 

Brian sighed in exasperation. “I’d forgotten to set my clock back,” he answered ruefully, “I got woken up by the window cleaner instead.”

John snorted at Brian’s response. “I bet you gave him a fright.”

Brian huffed a laugh out and shook his head. “My curtains were closed, thankfully, for both our sakes.”

Roger, who had come to stand by the corner of the kitchenette area whilst the kettle boiled, looked thoughtful at Brian’s response. “You ever wonder,” he called over, “how weird it is that we spend so much time trying to keep nosy people out of our lives but we pay people who look through our windows for a living?”   


“That's not exactly their job description, Rog!” Freddie shouted back with a laugh, as John grimaced at Roger’s words. 

“God now you mention it, that is creepy.”

Brian paused fiddling with the strings on his guitar, not really being able to tune properly in such a busy conversation, and nodded and hummed. “George Formby's song's a bit like that. You think it's a cheeky song full of harmless japes but when you really look at the lyrics, you realise he's actually a peeping Tom.”

“Fucking hell…” Roger groaned in horrified revelation. “Right, I'm cancelling our window cleaner!”

John laughed in amusement at Roger’s words, though he had clearly been just as creeped out by the topic of conversation as Roger was. 

“And who's going to clean them instead? You?” Freddie asked.

Roger shrugged. “I'll think of something.”

“Got something to hide Rog?” John asked, with a typical Deaky glint in his eye that usually meant trouble when paired up with Roger. 

“Yeah,” Roger shouted, “Plans for world domination. Starting right, here right now.” 

Before any of them could reply, the kettle noisily reached it’s boiling point and Roger went back to his task of making Brian his much needed coffee. 

Brian, now with the room a bit quieter, went on to check his guitar was tuned, ready for another day of hard going rehearsals. They were putting everything into making sure their next performance would go off without a hitch because they all knew the venue itself wasn’t the best out there to perform in, with normally a lackluster audience, so it was up to them to do all the hard work for their pay. 

“Wait a minute, darling.” Freddie said, after giving Brian enough time to drink at least half of his cup of coffe before moving into the area they designated as their stand-in stage. “The clocks were meant to go back on Sunday.”

Brian shrugged his shoulders and got up to follow Freddie. “Yeah, well, I was at my parents on Sunday and yesterday I went by my watch all day yesterday, which was lucky really, so....”

Roger looked thoughtfully then started grinning. “How are you an astronomer and yet-”

“Shut up. You once left the flat without-” Brian said, before Roger could even get started. 

“Both of you shut up,” John said, in a rare but not quite uncharacteristic show of interjecting, before chaos could derail the whole session.. “Freddie’s raring to start and i have to leave for a seminar at 2.” His tone of voice was not one to be argued with.

So Roger pulled a tongue as he got on his drums. Brian mouthed the word  _ childish  _ at him as he picked up his guitar, and then pulled a tongue back. 

Both were lucky these things occurred behind Freddie and John’s backs. 

**

Freddie and Roger were at their small dining table with a pot of tea and half filled cups each as they rehashed the day they’d just had. It had been over all successful and fun, until Brian suggested they might be better putting Polar Bear before Liar, and Liar after Doing All Right, thinking it might perk the interest of a potentially dull audience. 

The suggestion had not gone down well with Freddie, and going from John’s reaction, they all noticed he wasn’t keen on the suggestion either. 

“Talking of Deaky,” Freddie said, placing his tea cup down on to the saucer, “He didn't tell us today either.”

“I know.” Roger replied, then brought up his arm on to the table to rest his head in his hand. 

“I really thought he was going to, he was quite vocal for him today, putting Brian in his place. I love it when he has days like that.”

Roger laughed at the assessment of the day’s events. John had indeed gone a step above just simply glaring Brian down when he didn’t agree with something the guitarist said or did. “Maybe he's just working up to it.”

Freddie hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe.” 

Roger shrugged, “Maybe tomorrow….”

“Yeah.”

They both went back to sipping their cups of tea. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The George Formby song, When I'm Cleaning Windows, is indeed creepy when you read the lyrics too closely. Which I did back when I won his greatest hits album back in 2011, so Brian is unashamedly working as author mouthpiece in this chapter. 
> 
> Also, Brian's clock/time mishap is by no way inspired by anything I may or may not have done myself. Absolutely not.


	3. Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Third day of rehearsal. Their personalities are showing a bit more now.

Freddie walked in to their rehearsal space ahead of Roger and was surprised to see the mass of curly hair, and then the man who belonged to it, through the window. Brian was sat at the table area, looking down noodling on his guitar as he walked through, oblivious to the world around him. 

“You're here early, darling.” Freddie called as he walked through. He heard Roger coming up behind him so continued on to the table Brian was sitting at. 

Brian looked up, but if he was surprised to be interrupted, he didn’t show it. “Hmm, yeah…” he cocked his head rather sheepishly. “I set my alarm clock back yesterday before I came out, then set it back again before I went to bed last night, forgetting that i'd already done it.”

Freddie shook his head in disbelief. “Oh dear. You're so absent minded sometimes, Bri, dear. What were you doing before going to bed?”

Brian did look surprised at that question, which Freddie found intriguing but didn’t comment on it. He knew Brian could be funny sometimes about other people being interested in hearing him talk. “Just, er, reading really. Thinking. Nothing interesting.” 

“Not interesting? I highly doubt that.”

Roger came in at last and dropped his coat on to the other table. “Coffee Bri? You look like you need it?”

Brian stood up. “Yeah, I'll make it. You want any?” He placed the red special down on to the chair next to the one he was sitting in, the one opposite Freddie, and headed towards the kitchenette area.

“Yes please, Bri.”

“One sugar, splash of milk?”

“Shaken, not stirred.” Roger replied cockily. 

Brian sighed, but he was smiling as he shook his head in fond exasperation, knowing by now what to expect from the drummer. “How about poured over your head?”

Freddie stepped in before it could really get going, which felt like an every day thing with the pair of them constantly bickering like children. “I will have tea, Brian, dear. Same way you made it the other day, darling, if you would.”

Brian pointed at Freddie. “See that Roger? Those are reasonable instructions.”

“I’ll give you reasonable instructions in a minute.” Roger mumbled under his breath.

Freddie sighed and hoped John would turn up soon so they could get started. It wouldn’t stop the bickering, but at least it would feel like it had a purpose.   


It wasn’t too long after Brian brought over their hot drinks that their missing member walked through the doors and into the main rehearsal space. He clearly looked shocked at being the last one to arrive.

“Hello…” he said, somewhat warily.

Freddie got up and out of his seat instantly to greet him properly, with an enthusiastic hug. The other two remained seated at the table. “Deaky, darling! How're you this morning?”

John returned it well enough but did shrug out of it quickly, which Freddie relented on. “Fine. How're you?”

“Oh just perfect! Ready for a full day of rehearsing.”

John smiled, though there was still an uneasiness lingering within him. “That's great!” He turned to Brian, “You’re all here early… Did I miss something?”

“I don’t know about these two, but I had more alarm clock trouble, I'm afraid.”

John grinned immediately. “Not window cleaner trouble?” 

Brian huffed out a laugh. “No, just the clock.”

John came to perch on the empty area of the table to Brian’s left and Roger’s right. “Morning Deaky.” Roger said, “We’re early just by luck. It wasn’t exactly a five course meal we had for breakfast.”

John hummed in sympathy. All of their cupboards were looking a bit bare in the absence of well paying gigs. Which is why the one coming up was so important, especially to Roger and Freddie whose cupboards were a bit barer than the others’.

“I was wondering,” Brian started, as he looked between all three of them “if you fancy coming to mine tomorrow night?”

Roger shrugged apologetically. “Ah sorry Bri, I got plans.”

“Her name is Susan.” Freddie said from behind Roger’s shoulder. “She’s training to be a vet.”

“You getting neutered, Rog?” John asked, quick as a whip.

“Funny.” Roger replied flatly. 

Brian shrugged. “Ah well never mind. Freddie?” He asked, looking at Freddie.

Freddie shook his head, also apologetically. “I’m awful sorry dear, I’ve got plans too.”

“His name’s Jim,” Roger said, in much the same way Freddie had with him before, “And he’s actually a decent bloke so I can’t make any jokes. Hah that almost rhymed.”

Freddie tapped him on the shoulder. “Someone should pay you for that talent, darling.”

Brian shrugged again and turned to the youngest member. “Two down. Deaky?”

John also shook his head. “Sorry Bri, got plans too,”

Roger, who had just been about to stand up and leave the table, sat back down in surprise. He and Freddie shared a quick glance with each other. 

“You do, dear?”

John shrugged, not thinking anything of Roger and Freddie’s reaction. “Nothing as exciting as yours. Essay on the theory of hybrid living.  _ Will we have a real life HAL situation on our hands in the future?”  _

Roger a gave a noise of pleasant surprise. “That’s a good essay to write for electrical engineering!”

John shrugged again, “It’s for a competition.” He said, explaining, “Hastings put me on to it. £100 to the winner, what have I got to lose?”

Brian nodded. “Nice, good luck.”

Roger laughed, but not unkindly. “Only you would write an essay for fun.”

“£100 first prize,” He said, looking pointedly at Roger. “£50 second prize…” He then looked awkward, and his next words all came out in a quiet but rushed, indecipherable mumble. “Ayearssupplyoflihtbulbsforthirdprize”

Freddie looked at Roger and Brian to see if they caught what John had just said, and going from both of their confused expressions of furrowed brows and tilted heads, neither of them did. 

“Sorry, dear?”

“Did you say light bulbs?” Roger asked.

John nodded tightly. “Yes.”

“Well…” Brian started brightly, “That’s…”

“Light bulbs.” Freddie repeated back, feeling at a loss.

“You want the light bulbs don’t you?” Roger said, clearly amused. 

John shrugged sheepishly, “I might not place but, it wouldn’t be too bad, if I got the lightbulbs.” He looked between Freddie and Roger with the telltale sign they knew meant mischief, but not just any mischief, John Deacon’s Very Clever type of mischief. “They haven’t specified a monetary value or wattage limitation, just  _ a years supply _ . Terms and conditions just state which shops I can buy from and a contractual obligation not to sell them on.” He first explained, and then seeing their blank faces, elaborated. “It doesn’t say anything about gifting them or that they’re not to be used outside the home…”

Roger cottoned on first. “You evil genius. Stage lights!”

“Well that would be wonderful Deaky.” Brian said, “Have fun!”

“Yes darling,” Freddie said, trying not to get his hopes up. That was exactly what they needed to improve their stage pazazz. “That’s very thoughtful of you. I wish you all the luck. How many pages do you need to write?”

John shrugged again, “Two pages, Oxbridge standard rules.”

Freddie hummed in reply. It sounded like a lot, but John Deacon could do anything he put his mind to, and John soared when it came to electronics and the possibilities therein. 

“Anything specific you wanted to do Bri?” Roger asked, redirecting the conversation back, “We can always go back to yours after the gig.”

Brian shook his head. “Nah just, you know, one of those weeks. We’re seeing each other every day this week bar tomorrow, thought I’d give us the full house.”

“Aw,” Freddie said, “Well that’s nice of you darling, sorry we can’t though.” He patted the guitarist on his way past him to their ‘stage’ area. 

“That’s fine.” Brian said, waving off the apology.

Roger finished his drink and then stood up, heading over to his drums and hopping up behind them. The other two set up their guitars in the amps. 

“Right,” Roger said, “Which one first?”  
  


***

  
Another day of rehearsing done found Freddie and Roger playing lucky dip with the scraps they had in their cupboards. Tonight’s tea was beans on toast with half a jacket potato each. 

“Hm another no go today.” Freddie said, slicing the toast up before taking a forkfull of the potato and putting it on top. It wasn’t the best combination, but it was filling. 

“I know.” Roger sighed, doing much the same as Freddie. “But maybe that was a hint, today. I mean  _ who else _ would write an essay for fun on a free night just on the chance they might win some light bulbs when they could go down the student union and find a girl, or boy, to shag?”

“Well,” Fredie said, thinking. “Brian.”

Roger scoffed, “Brian’s Brian! I love the man but he’s a rare breed.”

Freddie admonished the other man with a look. “I feel bad we’re all busy but him.”

Roger shrugged, “He’ll find something to do, he always does. Maybe even _someone_ for a change!”

Freddie rolled his eyes. “You’re his best friend, be nice.”


	4. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The One With All The Dates

“So,” Roger started, looking down at the empty wax paper bag that had been full of half-edible chips just minutes before. “I think this night turned out well after all, how about you?”

Susan looked at him, unimpressed. Her face framed by her damp honey blonde hair, before she broke down into giggles. “Roger, we’re in Wimpy and they’ve ran out of burger buns! You look like a drenched dog, you’re shivering, and I look like I threw up on myself.”

“Yeah…” Roger said, because it was true. They’d both took a bad tumble when walking away from the cinema. He had landed badly in a puddle, quickly had to roll onto his back to avoid drowning in dirty puddle water, and because they’d been holding hands, she’d gone down with him and landed on top of her carton of ice cream. Luckily it had been free due to a mechanical failure of the machine, which had been the only reason she’d got some. The nearest place with bathroom facilities to dry off, besides going back into the cinema which, on looking at the crowd gathering outside, had looked like it was having it’s own problems far beyond their own, was the nearby fast food restaurant.

It had started showering on the way there, making them look even worse. Yet the staff had barely batted an eye when they rushed in and headed towards the bathrooms, with Roger promising they’d order something when they came back out. 

Roger, half an hour later, looking at the remnants of a cheap greasy supper they’d scoffed down, figured he could call this date an outright failure. The film hadn’t even made for a good watch, and he felt awful about the state of her dress.

“But you know what?” Susan asked, biting her lip.

“What?”

Susan shrugged. “I’ve had worse dates.” She laughed again and it was so infectious Roger laughed back. 

He dreaded to think of how she could have possibly had worse dates, but before he could ask she nodded out the window behind Roger. “I think the rains gone off.”

Roger turned around and sure enough, the rain had stopped. “Hm…”

Susan set to tidying up the table in front of her. “Come on, let’s get out of here and run back to mine… watch out for the puddles…”

Roger followed her lead and piled up the rubbish for the waitress to clear. “Can’t get any more wet or cold.” He pointed out, loving she had this sense of humour about the situation.

Susan shrugged. “I’ll find a way to warm you up, don’t worry.”

Roger paused and looked at her. “Well then. Can’t say no to that, can I?”

Susan giggled some more and reached for his hand. He took it and let her lead the way.

**

Freddie looked down in awe at the now empty plate as he put the cutlery together. They were sat at Jim’s dining table in his house, and had eaten by candle light. “Thank you, Jim. It was absolutely lovely but, you know you didn’t have to got through all of the trouble, darling.” 

Jim shrugged with a smile. “I told you, it’s no trouble and if it was, well, you're worth it, Freddie.”

“Thank you.” Replied Freddie quietly, “You wonderful man. Still, we could have got fish and chips from the chip shop and I’d have enjoyed it all the same. You work so hard all day, and then-”

Jim covered Freddie’s hand with his own and cut him off. “You are worth it.” He repeated, “You, er, you’ll always be worth it. If you want to… continue to see me that is…”

Freddie turned his hand to hold both of Jim’s in his own. “Of course I do. I can’t imagine not, dear. You could have fucked the whole night up and burnt everything, and I’d have still enjoyed the night cos…” Freddie hesitated, as ever struggling with the concept of being open and coming across as needly and clingy. But this was Jim and throughout their short courtship, he had never been nothing but lovely and supportive and open with him. Freddie steeled himself. “Well to be honest with you, I do rather enjoy your company, darling.”

Jim’s face brightened and flushed “I’m glad. I- I… I  _ love _ your company…”

Freddie looked at Jim in surprise, and felt floored. 

Jim cleared his throat and eased his hand out from under Freddie’s. “Want to see what’s for pudding?”

Freddie smiled, and shook his head, taking Jim’s hand back in his own before the other man could get too far. “Maybe later… Is that alright, darling? I think we should just sit down and love each other’s company for a bit.”

Jim sat back down, looking dazed but happy. The hand in Freddie’s squeezed his, and Freddie squeezed back. “Yes. Yes that’s grand.”

***

John looked over anxiously at Ronnie who was holding his essay in her hands. She had been on the last section of the last page but had gone back to the first page to re-read something. It was all getting a bit too much for him and he had to break the silence. “So?” He asked eagerly, “What do you think?”

Ronnie looked up grinning. “You’re so clever. And this bit,” She pointed half way through the first page, “This line here about the water, that’s so funny.”

John shrugged. “I tried not to be too sarcastic.”

Ronnie shook her head. “No, no It’s perfect.” At the doubtful look he gave her, she continued. “It’s sarcastic  _ and _ it’s perfect.” She gathered the two pieces of paper together and handed them over to John carefully.

“Thanks. Thanks for reading it over.”

“It was my pleasure.” Ronnie replied, smiling at him. 

John shuffled the papers together, unnecessarily, and placed them down on his desk on top of his other finished essays he needed to hand in the next day and monday. He looked up over to her and found her still looking at him. He suddenly felt a bit too warm for his very small room in the student flat. 

“You, er, want to go down to the erm…” He said, not quite sure where was both enjoyable for both of them to go that wouldn’t squeeze his finances anymore than they already were.

“I think I’d rather stay here.” She replied, leaning forward, and delicately touched the back of his hand with her warm fingers.

John nodded his head. “Yeah. Yeah we can do that. Yes let’s do that…” A grin formed on Ronnie’s face and he was powerless against the one forming on his own. He knew the gap between his front teeth was showing, he didn’t care. And judging by the blush forming on Ronnie’s face, she didn’t either. 

***

Brian paced around the front room of his very small flat. With it being so small and his legs being so long, the circuit was indeed very short. He turned to the empty couch and addressed it like one would address a very important audience. “I learnt a word a few months ago… no.” He shook his head and walked passed the couch to the window, then turned back to the empty couch. “Hey chaps,” he shook his head with a grimace, “No, no, when do I ever say chaps? Fuck sake Bri. Don’t be awkward.” He walked passed the couch from the window to the end of the room and leant casually on the gutted fireplace. “Hey!” he said, overly bright, like a substitute teacher might erroneously address a bunch of twelve year olds, “So… So I have to tell you something. It’s nothing really, it’s just…” he deflated and looked up to the ceiling, “my whole identity, sense of being… “ 

He did another circuit of the living room whilst talking. “Hey so I’m asexual, what do we think about that?” He stopped in front of the couch again, and adopted a rather set back accent that reminded him of the head teacher of his old primary school. “I have gathered you all today in our esteemed studio to tell you a matter of great importance. You can have the sex and the drugs, I just the want the rock and roll because I’m asexual.” he paused, the reality seeping in to his bout of ridiculousness as he narrowed his eyes at where the imaginary three people were sitting. “Although I’d rather you  _ not _ have the drugs, because I don’t think any good comes of using them. Auuughghhh.” 

He sighed, turned and dropped down on to the couch. The wood creaked under his weight due to it’s age and over all ratty condition. “Dear Roger, Freddie and Deaky, I’m a pathetic twit who can’t even talk to his friends and by the way I’m asexual. You probably don’t know what that means because nobody does and I lost the pamphlet I was going to show you. Please don’t kick me out of the band, I’m still me, love Brian.”

He blew out air through his mouth and crossed his arms, wondering what the hell he was even thinking. The horrible voice of negativity overtook his senses again and he struggled to fight it off. “Or maybe you won’t even care because it has no affect on you whatsoever and you’ll think i’m a self important pratt if I say anything.” He groaned in misery and frustration and stared at the ceiling until the chip wood pattern started blurring together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mood whiplash? Sorry.


	5. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One last rehearsal before the gig. Will all that worrying Freddie's been doing finally pay off?

“We don’t need to go overboard today, we’re almost all set for tomorrow, don’t you agree?” Freddie said to the other two, whilst twirling the mic stand with a flourish like a cheerleader had done martial arts training. It was alluring in the right light, Roger was sure.

“Yeah and to be honest with yous,” Roger said, “I’m absolutely knackhered, so if we could keep this short, i’d really appreciate it.”

Freddie rolled his eyes. “Yes, maybe coming in at 4 in the morning the night before a rehearsal wasn’t a good idea.”

“Good night?” John asked, 

Roger grinned, “Ohhh yes.” and then he stopped when he realised who he was replying to. “Oh erm. I mean. Yeah Deaky, I had fun, you know…” He laughed off awkwardly.

John looked at Roger like he’d grown too heads. “Right.”

Roger shrugged awkwardly, “I won’t bore with the details.”

“How did your essay go, darling?” Freddie interjected, before the conversation could get more awkward and stilted. 

“Yeah,” John said, then continued getting his bass set up for the rehearsal. “I actually finished it in a couple of hours. And er… now I have a girlfriend.”

Roger whipped his head around and stared at John. “What?”

“What?” echoed Freddie, “A girlfriend?”

John looked like he was trying not to be offended at their surprised tone, so Freddie aimed for a more friendly curious smile. “Yes.” John replied, flatly. 

Before John could give them any details, the sound of the main door closing had them all turning to the window, in time to see Brian rushing passed the window and the door to the main rehearsal space opening. 

“Hello what have I missed?” Brain said, placing his guitar down on to a chair of the tabled area and taking off his goat.

“Deaks got himself a girlfriend.” Roger said, joyfully with a nod in the bassist’s direction. 

For reasons neither Freddie or Roger could figure out, Brian’s face faltered a bit but eventually schooled into a more pleased one. “Oh. Wonderful news, Deaky!” He said rather congratulatory, “How did that happen?”

“Yes, how did that happen?” Freddie asked, trying not to sound as baffled as he felt. 

“I…” John started, again looking at them as if it was all very self explanatory and did not need such close scrutiny. “Well like I said. I wrote my essay, finished it on a couple of hours, and she- my friend, Ronnie- Veronica- we do our coursework together, you see? So she’s normally around on days when I’m not busy-”

“She’s doing electrical engineering too?” Roger asked.

John barked out a laugh. “Oh goodness no. No, I’ve seen her wire a plug. No. She’s over in the nursing school and we met when I had a practical seminar over in the medical centre where she was shadowing, and... “ he paused, wistfully with a smile forming on his face. “I don’t know, she started talking to me during the lunch break and we’ve been friends ever since.”

“When was this?!” Freddie asked in surprise, as if it was a personal affront not to know who else their youngest member was friends with. “You haven’t mentioned her before.”

John shrugged, “Oh about… three weeks ago? And no, I mean, we just normally do coursework and watch films together. But last night,” A blush formed on his face, “She, er kissed me. After I did my essay. And we’re going on a date next week. So. Yeah. Courting, you know.”

“Right.” Freddie said, sounding somewhat dazed. “Courting. You must do these things properly I suppose…”

“Yes…” John replied.

“And does she know….?”

“Freddie.” Roger said, and Freddie looked to see the Roger shaking his head minutely.

“Does she know… about the band?” John finished the question. Freddie grabbed the mistaken assumption with two hands, and ignored Roger glaring meaningfully at him. 

“Yes, darling! Does she know about the band?”

“Yeeesss,” John started slowly, “She knows I’m in the band and knows it will take up a lot of my time. Don’t worry Freddie, the band is still second priority after my degree.”

“Well.” Freddie said lightly. “Good.”

“You’ll have to bring her to a gig, Deaky.” Brian said, breaking through the awkward atmosphere in the room, whether he had picked up on it or not..”So we can meet her and impress her for you on her behalf.”

John breathed out relieved. “Yes! Not tomorrow,” He said hesitatingly, “But maybe the next one or one near Christmas.”

“Worried we’ll scare her off?” Brain asked teasingly.

John shook his head. “It’s more the crowd. I erm.. want to guarantee a decent crowd. You know, impress her.”

“Ah.” Roger said, “Yeah. The Prairie isn’t called Drearie for nothing.”

“Well.. .” Freddie interjected, then spun his mic stand meaningfully. “We should get on, really.”

“Can I make a coffee first?” Brain asked.

Roger and Freddie groaned, though they could hardly talk. The first thing they had done themselves when they got in just fifteen minutes prior was make their own hot drinks before even speaking in full sentences to John. 

***

They only rehearsed for a few hours, unlike the previous days where they tried to cram as many hours in between other priorities. Freddie would like to say it was because they definitely had everything as tight as they needed it to be, and that it was more important to rest both their voices and bodies in time for the next day’s performance, which _was_ the case, but the reasoning for the break was more Roger’s whining about already knowing this piece, that bit and how he wasn’t even needed for Brian’s 10 minute guitar solo. 

So they rounded up and left. It wasn’t until Freddie got in the front passenger seat of Roger’s car that Freddie even remembered about the glare the drummer had sent his way earlier. As soon as Roger had the car in to gear and was driving out of the carpark, he turned to Freddie with a very annoyed expression on his face.

“What?” Freddie asked.

Roger glared at him before returning his attention back to the road. “Don’t _What_ me, Mercury. All week you were saying about letting Deaky say something first, and how we _need to be supportive but not over bearing_ and then you almost just outed him in front of all of us.”

“I know!” Freddie said, frustrated and upset with himself “I know! I was just confused. I wasn’t expecting- It was a surprise. And, anyway, I didn’t say anything, so.. it’s fine.” He finished, rather flatly.

Roger grunted. “It almost wasn’t.”

“I backed down didn’t i?” Freddie asked desperately, to which Roger did hum in affirmation. “I wonder how it’s gonna work out though.” 

“I don’t know, hopefully just fine.” Roger said, “Maybe this Ronnie’s like that too.”

Freddie scoffed. “One percent, the booklet said. That’s what, a few thousand people?”

Roger nodded in thought. “Right but…  _ One percent _ won’t be an even distribution across towns and cities, statistics don’t account for population density.” 

Freddie hadn’t considered that before, and it made sense. Still, he couldn’t quite believe it. “But what are the chances? We didn’t know the term at all two weeks ago and now there’s not just one but _two_ asexuals in London?”

Roger looked at him pointedly. “Someone once probably said the same thing about gay people.” 

Freddie hummed as he conceded to Roger’s logic whilst the other man continued driving them back to their flat. 

He put the radio on quietly to fill the tense silence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Newsflash to Freddie, you can't be outed if you're not in there.
> 
> If anyone _is_ reading this, thank you for following along on this fic of shameless self indulgence. Just two more chapters to go!


	6. Saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their much awaited gig.

“And you just learnt it just like that?”

Brian leant back a bit as the girl leant further in towards him. He was at the corner of the bar of The Prairie, a small live act pub that liked to think it was the place that put bands on the map. Brain had often felt it was usually the other way around, but the manager did have some connections to the music industry. They were too far out for the student scene, so they depended on the locals who liked a drink and didn’t mind the music, and the people they themselves invited along to see them play. At the end of night, if they performed well, it paid well, and they all had money in their pockets to pay bills and keep from starving. And they really never did know if anyone in the industry could be milling around with the manager or if it was a bit of a stretched lie.

They’d come off the stage to a meager round of applause and someone whistling loudly through their fingers, drunkenly shouting “encore! Encore!” Freddie had waved them off with a laugh and they waited in their dressing room for the queue that they could break down Roger’s drumkit and set to putting their equipment in the van. 

After a quick pick at the buffet table, they’d come back into the main area of the pub to spend some time with their adoring fans. As it was, _because_ it wasn’t their usual student scene, there weren’t really any adoring fans waiting for them. 

However, in an unprecedented turn of events, a young woman about their age, introduced herself as Valerie, had been in the audience with her friends and tracked down the guitarist after they’d ordered their drinks at the bar, to talk to him. He was separated from the others fairly quickly, with Roger disappearing off with Susan, and Freddie finding a few of his art friends and his boyfriend in the crowd. He’d kept an eye out for their bassist, but when he saw John leave Freddie’s group and out the front door with his bass and a wave back, he knew he was on his own. 

As he glanced out to the crowd and couldn’t see either of his two remaining band mates, he realised his hopes of rescue was very slim. 

He turned back to the girl and smiled awkwardly. “Well it took a few years, as these things do. I’m mostly self taught.”

Valerie leant over the bar even closer. Brian hoped it didn’t come across as rude to lean sideways so as not to be obvious about leaning further away from her than he already was, without bending his back. 

“Maybe some things are learnt quicker with a good teacher...” 

Brian laughed uneasily whilst mind with blank. He’d never been so blatantly flirted with before. He’d been subtly flirted with, and only found out after the fact from a frustrated Roger and Freddie spelling it out for him, and then teasing him for being oblivious. Sometimes it was a bit obvious, if not unbelievable, and he played oblivious to save any hurt feelings. This was very much uncharted corners for him, and he felt like a deer in headlights.

She turned her hand over and placed it over his. “Tell me, Brian, what else would you like to learn?”

Brain suddenly felt less like a deer in headlights and more like a mouse about to be caught by a cat. 

“Erm…” He said, thinking, “I’d like to learn to … learn to speak Spanish!” He found himself saying. It was news to him, but it’s what he said so he’d have to go with it.

Valerie’s smile faltered. “Is that all? I can think of some better things…” She held on to Brian’s hand and tried to turn it over. He pulled back before she could.

“You know,” He said, standing up from the stool, “I’m really sorry, but I must be going now. It’s been… nice to talk to you…”

Valerie’s face completely dropped. “You’re… leaving?

“Yes.” Brian said, nodding. “I have…” He waved vaguely behind himself, “I have work to do.”

“ Is this… You’re just going? That’s it?”

“I’m afraid so.” He said, sounding apologetic and trying not to come across as flustered as he felt. He caught a glimpse of blonde hair at the far side, and double checked to see it was his bandmate. Which it was. He could have yelped in relief. 

He waved vaguely in that direction. “But look, the rest of the band will be here a few hours still and I’m sure you’ll have fun with them. Er, good night.” 

“Right.” She said flatly. 

He nodded to her and made a beeline for Roger. The drummer was animatedly talking to a few people, his arm resting over the shoulders of Susan, their blonde hair almost mixing with how close they were standing. Not wanting to completely intrude on the conversation, he stood a foot back and tapped Roger on the shoulder. Roger turned and his face changed from the customary friendly he used with fans he hadn’t met yet to outright cheerful when he saw Brian. It made a change to the usual scowling that could be thrown his way during rehearsals and studio time.

“Brimi!”

“I’m off now Rog.” He said, holding his car keys up for emphasis.

“What?” Roger looked somewhere over his shoulder and he suddenly smiled at Brian knowingly, with an eyebrow raised. “Oh I see.”

“What?” He looked over his shoulder and spotted Valerie looking at them. “Oh no. No I- she’s not- I’m not leaving with her, she’s staying- well I don’t know what she’s doing,” He stuttered frantically, “But I’m heading home. Alone. To sleep.”

Roger let go of Susan and turned to face Brian properly. “You okay?”

Brian shrugged. “Just tired, you know.”

Roger tutted and rolled his eyes. “Oh Brian!” He whined, “What sort of rockstar are you?”

“I work three jobs, Roger, leave off.”

“We keep telling you to move back in with us to save some money,” Roger said, evenly, “Then you wouldn’t need three jobs.”

“And I appreciate the offer,” Brian replied in much the same tone, “But I like my space.”

Roger sighed. “Fine. Fine. Do what you want. You always do.” 

Brian frowned as he watched Roger cross his arms. “Roger, don’t be like that.”

Roger looked at him closely for a few seconds and then sighed, then uncrossed his arms. “Alright. I’ll call you in the morning then.”

Brian nodded. “Make it after 1”

“Oh alright.” They hugged quickly. “Goodnight grandad."

“Goodnight. Get home safe. Whenever that may be.”

Roger hummed and then looked at Susan, then back to Brian. “Bright and early…” He winked to emphasise his point. Brian sighed and shook his head, and left Roger to continue on to party with his girlfriend. He couldn’t see Freddie around, so he had to hope Roger would pass on to the singer that he’d left, if he was indeed still around. 

He nodded awkwardly to Valerie on his way out through the back door, and got a scoff and a cold shoulder for his troubles. He hummed thoughtfully to himself. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone’s feelings but he also had done everything he could to shut down any flirting on her part, short of being rude and mean. 

He walked towards the far side of the carpark where his trusty car was, which was annoyingly the opposite end of the car park to where Roger’s van was, because vehicles with instruments and equipment in were parked closer to the venue doors. His dear Red could not be seen through any of the windows, from the way he hid her on the floor by the backseat to save her from being stolen, but he knew she was in there and the sooner he got her back home to the safety of his flat, the better.

He wasn’t too far away from the doors when he heard the door slam open and heavy footfalls behind him. “Bri! Brian! Wait, for god sakes, I can’t run in these boots! They’re starched.”

Brian had already stopped and turned to meet the singer, holding an arm out incase he needed steadying. “Sorry Fred. You okay?”

Freddie ignored the hand and instead held on to his shoulder with. “Roger says you’re leaving.”

Brian nodded. “That was the plan.”

“Already?”

Brian sighed, not wanting to rehash the same conversation he’d just had with Freddie. He hated arguing with Freddie. “I’m tired, Freddie, I need to sleep. I can’t live off coffee and sound waves every day of the week.”

Freddie frowned. “But darling, there are so many girls who want to meet you in there.”

“I met some of them!” He would not let on to the Valerie situation lest he get a misguided pep talk. “But I can’t stay there all night just cos they want me to. I need to sleep.”

“Hmm… Alright darling.” Freddie dropped his hand and stepped back. “You'll get home okay?”

Brian smiled tiredly. “Yeah of course I will. Just had one drink and I think greasy buffet soaked most of that up.”

Freddie nodded. “Alright. You get some sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Roger said he’s calling me at 1pm.”

Freddie rolled his eyes. “Well that’s no good! What if you’ve gone off the road on the way home, and we won’t know it for twelve whole hours? No, dear, I’ll ring you in the morning.”

“Freddie-”

“No,” Freddie interrupted sternly. “I won’t be argued with, Brian, dear. Not when your life is at stake.”

Brian sighed and let it go, understanding where his friend was coming from “Alright.” He smiled to smooth any ruffled feathers between them, and Freddie smiled warmly back.

“There’s a love. Goodnight, darling.”

Brian lent in for a quick hug and let the singer go again. “Goodnight Freddie.”

***

Freddie was at the set back part of the bar, talking quietly with Jim about their next few performances and how they were planning on coordinating travelling, with it being nearer christmas which meant the roads would be worse to travel on, when he was gently tapped on the shoulder. Expecting a fan, he turned around with a bright smile but was taken aback when he saw one of the older barmen standing there.

“Excuse me?” The barmen asked in a broad yorkshire accent, “Do you recognise this? We just found it in’t dressing room as we were cleaning, figured it must belong to one of you boys.”

Freddie looked down to see the very long, thin but warm multi-coloured scarf that Brian had turned up wearing earlier. 

“Oh Brian, the forgetful sod.” He nodded to the barman. “Our guitarist’s dear, thank you, I’ll have to take that to him tomorrow, he left just about half an hour ago.” He gestured pointlessly towards the front doors of the pub. 

“Ah. Right.” The barman replied, then handed it over. “Here you go then.”

“Thank you.” Freddie said, and brushed his hands over the soft wool. “He’s always leaving his things-” Suddenly, like a Pollock painting had suddenly reformed to make sense right in front of his eyes, Freddie was hit with a revelation. “He’s always leaving something behind…” He grasped the barman’s hands, “Sorry, thank you. I will get it to him” he spoke in a rush, then turned to Jim. “Jim, darling, I’ll be right back.

“Everything alright, Freddie?” Jim asked, as he rushed passed.

“Yes.” Freddie turned just a bit to face him, “Need to talk to Roger about something. I’ll be right back.”

He went over to the booth areas where he had last seen Roger in a group of fans and deflated to see him not there. Hoping he hadn’t left yet, he kept looking at every corner in the room before he made out the obscured shapes of Roger and Susan, getting up close and personal in the corner booth. 

Freddie grimaced. He braced himself as he approached them. “Rog.” he said, half not wanting to be heard. “Roger..” He tapped him in the shoulder “Roger!” 

The couple both turned to him with flushed faces and not so sorry grins.

“Sorry dear, excuse me, I need to borrow our drummer for a second."

Roger looked at Freddie like he’d told him Christmas was cancelled, but seeing Freddie’s own facial expression, nodded. “Sorry Sue,” He said, sitting up straight and fixing some buttons on his shirt. “Hang on.” 

Susan giggled in reply and straightened herself up too. “I’ll just wait here, okay?”

Roger smiled softly at her and agreed he’d come right back to the booth for her.

“I think we may have made a mistake.” Freddie said, once at the far side of the bar, away from being overheard by anyone.

“What do you mean?”

“Where did you find that pamphlet?” Freddie asked hurriedly

“By the fridge,” Roger said, because he didn’t Freddie to elaborate on which pamphlet he was on about. “On the counter above Deacy’s rucksack.”

“Right, which was in the kitchenette next to the coffee caddy.” Freddie pointed out. 

“Yeah?” 

“Now I’m no Hercule Poirot, darling,” Freddie said, “But what if… what if that pamphlet wasn’t Deacy’s? What if it wasn’t left behind _by Deacy’s bag_ , but left _by the coffee caddy_ .”

Roger shook his head in confusion, until he finally twigged what Freddie was asking, and his face widened in sudden understanding “Brian.”

“It would explain a few things.”

Roger grimaced. “Oh god I hope not.”

“What?” Freddie said, shocked and ready defend his dear friend to death even if it was against Roger. 

Roger shook his head in disappointment with himself, “I’ve been a right shit to him about being single.”

“Ah. Yes.” Freddie said, understanding Roger’s take on the situation. “Well. Yes. You’ll just have to apologise.”

Roger nodded, “Yeah, but not until he says something, because otherwise how would I know to apologise.”

“I mean, I could be wrong-” Freddie said, to placate the other man, though he didn’t think he was. “It could be Deacy’s.” He offered, “We read the bit about romantic and aesthetic attraction.”

“Yeah…” Roger said, trailing off. “But…” he shook his head as if that completed his sentence.

“We’ll just have to see.”

Roger sighed and nodded. “Yeah. What-” It was at that moment Roger noticed what Freddie was holding in his hands. “Why have you got Brian’s scarf?”

Freddie rolled his eyes. “Because the stupid sod left it in the dressing room.” _Like he leaves everything behind,_ Freddie thought but didn’t say it. “I’ll take it around tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Roger said, and then when he realised they didn’t really have anything more to discuss he pointed with his thumb over his shoulder at where Susan was waiting for him. “Can I get back-”

Freddie rolled his eyes. “Yes. Jim will be driving me back to ours in a few minutes so shall I expect to meet you there-”

Roger shook his head with a cocky grin on his face. It would have been lecherous if it wasn’t Roger and if Freddie didn’t know he treated every girl he went out with like a precious princess who deserved all his worldly goods. 

Freddie shook his head in exasperated. “Goodnight, Roger, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight Freddie,” Roger said, before winking and walking off back to Susan.

It took just a few seconds before the reality of the situation hit Freddie like a brick. He’d been mistakenly worried about John _not_ coming out to them all week when in fact he should have been worried about Brian’s hesitance on coming out to them all week. When they’d thought it was Deaky, the shyness, dedication to his uni work, and the hyperfocus of the technical aspects of the band, had suddenly made sense. 

Of course someone who had no interest in sex and romantic relationships would find amazing and brilliant things to fill all that extra time that’s wasted on sex and romantic relationships, they’d thought. 

Now the coming out pamphlet most likely belonged to Brian, Freddie suddenly had a sour taste in his mouth. The amount of unkind and impatient comments both he and Roger had made at Brian’s expense, at his lack of experience, his dedication to his uni work over the last few years settled uneasy in his stomach. 

Their conversation from the other day echoed in his mind. 

_“Who else would write an essay for fun on a free night just on the chance they might win some light bulbs when they could go down the student union and find a girl, or boy, to shag?”_

_“Well,” Fredie said, thinking. “Brian.”_

_Roger scoffed, “Brian’s Brian! I love the man but he’s a rare breed..”_   
  


_‘A rare breed, indeed,’_ Freddie thought. _‘No wonder he hasn’t come out to us yet. No wonder he had that pamphlet.’_

He turned back to where he’d left Jim, wondering how both him and Roger could have treated two people who mean so much to them so _differently,_ when the signs had been obvious all along.

He smiled for Jim and knew it came out fake, but Jim, the dear, asked if he was okay and let it drop when Freddie said it was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an asexual person, I know we're all a mixture on a very wibbly wobbly spectrum. I am going off my own experiences with being asexual, and projecting them on to Brian, as well as poking fun at allosexuals who ask "what do you do with all your spare time???" when they find out about those of us who don't want sex. I am also acknowledging the fact that actually, for some of us, not being interested a romantic or sexual relationship really does give us the time and energy to focus on other things. And actually, it's the other way around. It's not so much "We have time for this because we don't have that", it's more "Why wouldn't we spend all our time on this?? This is where our interests lie? This is what we enjoy" And the This could be anything: reading, watching movies, eating, exercising, crafting, figuring out the secrets of the universe and understanding the function of stardust...


	7. Sunday - Part A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning after the gig. They're all a bit tired, Brian's a bit more tired than the others. But he still plays host as they gather around his, and there's some crisps!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry, this was meant to be up on Monday. I spent most of the day editing the chapter, which was choppy and chunky. And then we got the announcement about Lockdown 3, and my flat kind of descended into chaos. We needed to organise online orders and family members, and I’ve got an older friend who can’t work her tablet. That did me in and I only got back to it late this evening.
> 
> This was originally a much longer chapter but I decided to change it as I edited it and split it into two.

Brian woke up to pounding on the door and rolled out of bed quickly to rush to answer it, just to get the loud noise to stop. He caught the time on the clock as he instinctively looked into the living room on his way passed and he grimaced as he saw it was only twenty past ten. He pulled at his oversized pyjama tshirt to straighten it up, pulled at the right pant leg of his pyjama bottoms so it was down to his ankle, and pulled open the door. He half laughed, half whined at seeing Freddie there, all dressed and put together and smiling at him. “I thought you said you were  _ ringing _ ?” He moved out of the way and let Freddie in.

“Ringing, stopping by, what’s the difference.” Freddie said, shrugging. Brian closed the door after him and leant on it, to catch his breath and orientate himself after such a rushed awakening. “Are you alright, darling?” Freddie asked, taking him in, “Did you sleep well?”

Brian groaned but nodded. “Yeah, eventually.”

“Well that’s something. I have something for you.”

Brian stood up straight again, away from the door, and looked at Freddie in surprise. “Really? What is-” He then spotted when Freddie was holding delicately in his hand. “Oh! Is that my scarf?”

“Yes.” Freddie handed it over. “You left it behind in the dressing room last night, the barman found it about half an hour after you left."

It was warm where Freddie had held it and Brian couldn’t but bring it to his face to feel. Still soft as ever. He pushed down the urge to sniff it like he did when it was fresh out of the wash. 

“Oh god I didn’t even notice.” He looked at Freddie properly, “Thank you Freddie. Oh thank you.” Overcome with the relief at knowing he could have lost it for good, he hugged Freddie tightly. Freddie stumbled back a abit with the force, so Brian loosened up a bit and rebalanced them both. “I really appreciate that. I’d have been beside myself once I realised.” He let Freddie go and stepped back again. “You didn’t need to come all this way with it though, you could have kept hold of it until I saw you next week.”

Freddie looked at him like he knew him better than he knew himself. “And have you fret over it being out of your sight? I think not!” Freddie patted him on the arm and walked down the little hallway before coming to the junction between the living room and the kitchen. “Now,” he said, stopping, “You’re obviously tired, and I am one for a quiet and calm day today, so how about you make us some tea and we’ll ignore the world for a few hours by listening to some music?”

Brian hung up his scarf over his coat on the coat hook by the front door, but nodded over to Freddie. “Yes. Yes that sounds lovely Freddie.” He followed him down the hallway in to the kitchen. “I’ll make us a cup of tea and then I’ll get dressed.”

“Oh don’t bother on my account, dear, it’s sunday. Have you eaten?”

“No, not had a chance to yet. You want any?” He thought of his almost empty cupboards. “I’ve not had a chance to go shopping yet, but I have some things in. Eggs?”   


“No,” Freddie said, shaking his head, “No, the tea will do for me, thank you darling.”

Brain thought that something was off about Freddie, but couldn’t place exactly what. He busied himself with the kettle as Freddie hovered by the door, and got some bread out of the freezer to put straight into the toaster. He turned around and found Freddie watching him.

“Everything okay, Freddie?”   


Freddie nodded, “Of course, dear.” He said. Brian couldn’t help but think it really wasn’t, but didn’t know how to ask without giving Freddie ideas that something should be wrong with those things. Instead, he finished preparing the tea and waited for either the kettle to boil and the toaster to pop, whichever came first. 

When it was all ready, he got the wooden tray out with handles from above the cupboards that his mum gave him with a teasmade when he first left student halls for a student flat. He hadn’t had much cause to use it, and the teasmade was in a box in a cupboard somewhere going unused completely, but he loaded it now with his breakfast and their tea and carried it into the living room, gesturing Freddie to follow him.

“You can put a record on, Fred.” He said.

Freddie smiled warmly at him, thanked him and went over to the record player and shelves full of records. The din of crowd sounds and strings being tuned came out of the speakers not so soon after, from the start of Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album. Brian couldn’t help but smile and nod at the choice. 

Freddie came to lounge on the other end of the couch and picked up his cup of tea. 

For all the sudden rush of the rude awakening, it was exactly as Freddie promised, quiet and calm. And nice.

  
  


**

The phone started ringing at exactly 1 o’clock in the afternoon. Brian was just thinking of looking at what he could do for some lunch, or some sort of snack to keep him going until dinner time, that Freddie could also be enticed to eat when the sudden noise made him jump. 

“Oh!” Freddie exclaimed, similarly surprised.

“Oh that’ll be Rog.” Brian explained, and got up to get the phone whilst Freddie turned down the record player. They’d moved on from the Beatles and were listening to one of the classical albums he’d been given as a christmas present by the music teacher at the school he was substituting for last year. He held the receiver against his face and grimaced at the coldness of it. “Hello?”

_ “You got home okay then?” _ Roger asked brightly, skipping the usual pleasantries.

“Yes. You?”

_ “Yes, early this morning. Is Freddie with you?” _

Brain looked over to the living room by instinct, not that he could see where Freddie was sitting from the hallway. “Yes, been here a few hours now. I left my scarf behind last night so he brought it here for me. ”

Roger scoffed at that, and Brian could imagine the way he’d thrown his head back and rolled his eyes.  _ “I’d say we need to tie it around your neck but that’s exactly what you’re meant to do with it and you still left it behind.”  _

“I know. Just too tired, I guess. Too much on my mind.”

“Really? Want to talk about it?”

The softness and warmth from Roger’s voice took Brian by surprise. He was expecting lighthearted scorn, a criticism telling him to pull his head out of the stars, or his arse, and in to the real world. “Oh. Erm. No, no that’s okay. Just... the usual, you know.” 

“ _ Hmm. Well I’m all ears if you do.”  _

“Er. Thanks Rog. That’s kind of you. Are you alright then?” He asked, desperate to get back on even footing. He was going to  _ tell them _ , but he wasn’t prepared to spill it all out to Roger over the phone in the middle of the day, when Freddie was in the living room and John wasn’t even there at all. 

_ “Me? Yeah! Fine! Bit of kip, she made me breakfast before I left so I slept some more when I got back and here I am, raring to go.” _

“That’s… great!” 

_ “Tell you what, I’ll come around.” _

“Oh. You don’t ha-”

_ “I’ll bring Deacy too, if he’s free. Oh but he might be with his new bird though.” _

“Yes…” He was happy for the youngest member, he knew how hard it was for him to interact with people. “We might need to draw up a time table with him so we don’t bother him on his days with her.”   


Roger laughed.  _ “What, like we get him Wednesday through Saturdays and Ronnie gets him on Sundays and Mondays, and Tuesday he gets a day off?” _

“Considering Tuesday he rushes between rehearsal and uni, that seems a bit unfair to Ronnie, being his girlfriend.”

_ “Hey we were here first.” _

“Not in the same way, though!”

_ “I know,”  _ Roger said, wistfully,  _ “A man can dream.” _

Brain almost dropped the phone. “What?!”    


_ “Oh god I’m kidding.  _ I’m kidding, _ Brian. Don’t repeat that to John, he’ll kill me.” _

“Are you sure you’re kidding? Because, it would be-” Brian asked, because he really needed to make sure. It would be just his luck that the same week he was going to basically come out is the same week that John gets a girlfriend, and Roger comes out about feelings for John. But Roger cut him off.

_ “Yes!” _ Roger said, in his serious voice, so Brian had to believe him. _ “Christ, take a joke, Bri. I’m going. I’ll be there at yours in about half an hour, forty minutes.” _

Brian felt his heart beat calm down. “Okay Rog, drive safely.” 

“I always do.”

Brian kept his thoughts on that to himself. Roger was a great driver, but that didn’t change the fact that Roger liked to push the limits of his van and it usually had… unfortunate consequences. Like the night the gearbox failed on them when they were on a dual carriageway on the way home from a gig in Birmingham, and they had to pull over to the side of a road and wait until morning until they could get help. It had been freezing and all in all, not a good night for any of them.  


They said their goodbyes and he hung up and returned to the living room, already thinking what he could offer up as snacks for them all without having to leave his flat and buy food in. 

“Everything alright Bri, darling?”

“Yes, Roger’s on his way over. I’m thinking of what to make for lunch.”

“We should invite Deacy!” 

“Roger’s on it.” Brain said, still standing up. “If he’s not busy with work or his girlfriend, Roger will go pick him up.”

“Hmm a girlfriend. Well done Deacy.”

Brain smiled at Freddie pretty much echoing his own earlier thought sentiments. “Yes.” Brain finally sat down, figuring it wouldn’t do him any better thinking whilst standing up than sitting down.

Freddie picked up his cup of tea, just to make sure there was nothing left, and put it back down again. “Hard work for him though. Coursework, rock band and now a girlfriend.”

Brain nodded in agreement. “Deacy’s a clever man, though, he’ll figure it out.”

“I hope so. He seemed quite smitten when he was talking about her yesterday.”

“Yes. And I noticed he sneaked off early… earlier than me. I also noticed nobody commented on that.” He gave a friendly but pointed look at Freddie. Freddie did not smirk back like Brian thought he would. Instead, he looked pained, like Brian had really hurt his feelings. An apology was already on the tip of his tongue when Freddie turned to face him.

“Do we give you too hard a time, dear?”

“Oh. Erm. No.” Brian replied, apology dying away, “Not really. I know you mean well.”

Freddie scoffed. “Oh that’s high praise. My own  _ mother _ means well when she asks about pretty girls. I mean to do more than merely m _ean well_ , dear.”

Brian thinks things through. “Well…” he starts, “It is getting a bit tiring. I suppose.”   


Freddie placed his hand on Brian’s arm and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry for that darling,”

“It’s mostly Roger, really.” He says, because whilst it’s both, it is Roger who is most direct in his barbs. Freddie’s attempts at keeping Brian out late, getting Brian out there to mingle, are more gentle, and not taken personally when Brian does put his foot down and leaves. “And I understand where he’s coming from. But…”

“It’s not  _ you,  _ and it’s like asking you to change  _ you _ .”

Brian considered Freddie’s words. They hit very close to home, the way he’d felt about the situation, what got him thinking there was something wrong with him in the first place. The thoughts that led him to the little advice desk at the back of the library. But he wasn’t ready to say all that to Freddie just yet. “I suppose… I better look for snacks.” 

Freddie accepted it for the change of topic that it was and stood up with him. 

“Want a hand, Bri, dear?”

“No.” Brian said, smiling so Freddie would know it wasn’t a shut down, he just really didn’t need Freddie helping in the kitchen. “You can pick the next record, though.”

Freddie nodded, returning the smile. “Will do.”

  
  


**

Freddie heard the light sizzling of the chip pan and was already up to investigate the kitchen when there was a knock on Brian’s front door.

“Can you get that for me, Freddie?” Brian asked, shouting from the kitchen.

“Yeah!” He shouted back, and went to the door. Upon opening he was not surprised to see it was Roger and John standing there. Roger was bundled up in his fur coat over a thick white top with his dark blue jeans, where as John was just in a dark blue jumper with his jeans. “And what do you want?” Freddie said teasingly.

Roger smirked for a split second before opening his mouth. “GOD REST YE MERRY GENTLEMEN, LET NOTHING YOU DISMAY!” He sang. 

Both Freddie and Deacy winced. He reached for Roger’s coat and pulled him inside. “Alright, alright, come in, come in! Before you get Brian evicted for god sakes. It’s not even December!” He stared at John, who looked shocked but was laughing. “Did you dare him to do that?”   


“No!” John said, half annoyed, “I had no idea he was going to do that.”

Brian appeared around the doorway as Roger took his coat off and hung it up. “Did you have to?”

“Oi! I’ve got the voice of an angel.”

They all headed in to the kitchen to join Brian. “Yes,” Freddie said exaggeratedly, “Don’t we bloody know it, Choir Boy.”

“Just for that,” Brian said, looking at Roger, “No crisps for you.” 

“Aw! Last time I serenade you!” But Roger's threats got him nowhere, so he sat down and picked up the nearest thing to fiddle with and read, which happened to be a newspaper from weeks before.

Freddie sat opposite him, but was more intrigued with what Brian was doing. He had a small pile of thinly chopped potatoes on the counter by the cooker, and the chip pan going and two bowls on the counter on the other side of the counter. John stood by closer watching too. 

“Hello Deacy.” Brian said, spotting him at last, “Not busy today then?”   


John shook his head. “No. Though I am meeting Ronnie later.”

“They’ve got _plans_!” Roger exclaimed, with a cheeky grin and a wink to the bassist.

“Just the cinema.” John replied.

“Oh a date!” Freddie said, genuinely pleased for him. “Very nice.”

“On a Sunday?” Brian asked, though he was back to concentrating on the contents of the chip pan as he lifted the basket and poured them out onto a muslin cloth. That was when Freddie noticed there was already a muslin cloth on the counter, above the bowls, and he watched as Brian delicately lifted that cloth and turned it over, over the bowl so that the home made crisps would all fall in. He then got the salt shaker which was standing nearby and lightly salted the bowl.

“Yes.” replied John, “Don’t worry, it’ll be after church.”

Freddie caught the chuckle that threatened to burst out at John’s reply, knowing that wasn’t Brian’s line of thinking. Neither Roger nor Brian could manage the same. They weren’t unkind about John’s beliefs, it was just sometimes a surprising contrast to the rock star life they were on the edge of being thrusted into. 

_ Well, _ Freddie thought, looking at Roger,  _ some more so than others. _

“I more meant with uni tomorrow,” Brian said evenly, “But, well, yes that’s good to know too. Crisp, Deacy?” He gestured to the full bowl now in front of them on the counter. “Help yourself.”

Brian passed the bowl over to John, who took it and brought it over to Freddie to share. Freddie watched as John one of the lightly crisped, lightly salted crisp and tasted it. Brian had only done this a few times back when they were living together, Freddie had honestly missed it and he was glad Brian was bringing out his culinary skills again for them all. 

“What film will you be watching?” Freddie asked John, trading the question for a small handful of the crisps.

“Robin Hood.” John replied, “The picture house by the park is showing Errol Flynn films.” Deacy’s face lit up at the taste of the crisps. “Oh these are- You just made these yourself?”

“Oh that’s nice.” Freddie replied to John, and became aware of Roger waiting his turn to be offered some but was being completely ignored. The drummer had turned in his seat to face John, but John was keeping tight hold of the bowl and only slightly offering them out to Freddie.

“Are they alright?” Brian asked worriedly, “Not too much salt, is there?”

As John and Freddie eagerly praised the crisps, assuring him they tasted just fine and proved it by taking more from the bowl. 

“Can I have some yet?” Roger asked. 

Brian sighed. “Go on then.” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Thank you!.” Roger got up and went over to Deacy, taking a hand full of the crisps out of the bowl.

“You have got to stop giving in to those doe eyes, Brian, god knows what he’ll ask you to do next.”

“Oi!” Roger said, around half a mouthful of crisp. “That’s my secret weapon, that.”

“I didn’t give in to his…  _ doe eyes _ . I just knew he’d sneak some soon as my back was turned.

And Er yes, sorry Deacy, I did make them myself. It’s just.. cheaper you know.”

“And nicer!” John said assuringly, “Thanks Bri!   


“Really?” Brian asked.

“Yeah!”

“Regular Jack of all trades, this one.” Roger said, nodding to Brian. “The only reason we didn’t starve when he lived with us, was because he knew how to cook.”

Freddie nodded eagerly, “We were living off cereal and toast before Brian came to live with us, dear.”

John looked thoughtfully between them. “What are you living off now?”

Freddie and Roger looked at each other, both grimacing. Conveniently, Roger put another crisp in his mouth. 

“We’ve upgraded to boiled vegetables and beans on toast now. ” Freddie said, waving his arm as if it was no cause for the youngest member. “Heinz, even.”

“And they come here like stray cats every few weeks,” Brian added, rather unhelpfully. “So I feed them my finest tuna and then send them on their way.”

“To be fair,” Said Roger, “We always come bearing gifts.”

Brian looked at Roger meaningfully, and Freddie busied himself with getting more crisps from the bowl, wondering how far their bickering will go today with them being out of the studio. 

“And what gifts did you bring me today?”

Roger pointed at John. “I brought  _ Deacy. _ ”   


Brian barked out a laugh, which Freddie always loved seeing because they didn’t see it enough. “Of course, of course. Thank you.” He then continued to finish dishing out the crisps. The second lot went to the muslin cloth on to the bowl, the muslin cloth got moved out of the way and the third lot went from the basket onto a new muslin cloth. He patted the crisps dry and then also put them into the bowl.

He brought the other two bowls over to the table. “This one’s salt and vinegar,” he pointed to first bowl he put down, “and that one’s lemon and herb. It’ll be hot, so be careful.”

Freddie and the other two thanked him, John finally sat down at the table and put the bowl he’d been holding down next to the others, and Roger rejoined them taking up his previous seat. The three of them went for the bowl of salt and vinegar at the same time, where as Brian went for just the salted, finally able to try the finished product of his own hard work.

Freddie hummed in contentment as he ate the crisp. He really did enjoy it when they had days like this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was okay! Please point out any mistakes because fatique can make it hard to take in what you're reading, and reading can be a bit part of fixing things!


	8. Sunday - Part B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian finally tells them what's been on his mind all week and they eat more crisps. And Roger is Roger.

“Actually whilst you’re all here…” Brian started, tracing his fingers through the crumbs on the table after the clearing it of the dishes. “Can I talk to you about something?” Whilst looking down, he was oblivious to the quick darted knowing look shared between Roger and Freddie.

“Yes? Everything okay?” John asked, looking up from his half drunk cup of coffee.

“Well… Yes,” Brian said, “But, I suppose it depends on your point of view. Because it is to me, I think, but I’m not sure about you three. See. The thing is…” 

Freddie leaned forward, and Roger sat up. Brian wished he hadn’t created the suffocating atmosphere in the room, because it was obvious from then and the confused look John was giving him that they also could feel it. 

“This week, the one just gone, I mean… “ Brian looked up and looked between them one by one, then back to Freddie. “Well I mean. It’s sort of what we were talking about earlier Freddie. Erm. The thing is…”

John looked between Brian and Freddie, then to Roger, as if wondering whether Roger knew and could fill him on what he was missing, but Roger was looking at him just like Freddie was.

“Yes, Bri, darling?”

“You probably won’t have heard of it.” Brian started, trying to recall how he’d worded it the other day. “But this week was asexuality awareness week. I had this pamphlet- but, well I put it down somewhere and I was going to…” He shook his head. They didn’t need to be bogged down by the little details, “Anyway. That doesn’t matter. It’s just, that’s what I am.” He cringed and thought over his words. They explained nothing. “Asexual I mean.” He looked between them all again, and didn’t know how to read the expressions on their faces as they looked back. “LIke I said, you probably haven’t-”

Freddie cut him off with a hand to his own. “We know about asexuality, darling. It’s a new term, yes?”

Brian blinked. “Yes. You do?” He bit his lip as he looked between Roger and Freddie. “You’re not going to make a joke about plants or amoebas, are you?”

Freddie rolled his eyes in offence whilst Roger scoffed openly. “Do we look the type to make jokes about amoebas, dear? No. No jokes.”

“Zero on the Kinsey scale, right?” Roger said, pulling Brian’s attention completely to him. “No sexual attraction to anyone. But you can find people aesthetically attractive, and be romantically attracted to people.” Brian was shocked, and Roger smirked at his reaction. “See? We’re not just pretty faces.”

John leaned forward towards the table with a frown. “I’m sorry... I’ve not heard of it, Brian, but…” He looked at Brian, sincerity pouring out of him in waves. “You can explain more to me, if you like, or I’ll read up on it?”

Roger nudged him in the arm. “Basically whilst we fancy girls and Freddie fancies guys, Brian doesn’t really fancy anyone, not in the way we do. It’d be like us looking at flowers, nice to look at, no thoughts about shagging them. That right, Bri?”

Brian laughed. It was  _ such _ a typical Roger thing to do, cut out the wafty wording and get to the key of the matter. “That’s… yes…. It’s… that sums it up perfectly. Much better than I could…” Brian shook his head. “I never imagined…” He looked again between them all, laughter dying as he needed to know the most important part of all this. “It’s okay, then?”

Freddie blinked and looked at the other two before looking back at Brian, confusion visibly on his case. “Is what okay?”

“… me being asexual…” He replied, speaking as awkwardly as he felt.

“Oh darling of course it’s okay.” Freddie looked like he wanted to jump out of his seat, run around the small table and grab hold of Brian. Brian wouldn’t have minded if he’d have done that, but the singer remained seated, once again grasping his arm and rubbing it comfortingy.

“Oh good.” Brian said, rather faintly.

“Why?” Asked Roger, “Were you worried we wouldn’t like you anymore or something?” He asked it confrontationally, half sarcastic, but with just enough feeling about it it was clearly a question meant in earnest. 

“I…” Brian started, explanation on the edge of his tongue but the fear of sounding stupid holding him back. “Well…” He braced himself, “It doesn’t exactly fit with the rock and roll image, does it? Groupies and casual sex, orgies… Jimi Hendrix type stuff.”

John blinked at his words. “Oh god.” Brian looked away as he spotted the youngest member’s face start to go red. 

Unfortunately looking at Roger wasn’t much better, as Roger bit his lips trying to stop from laughing. He was clearly failing. “Oh god, Brian! Only you.”

Freddie, in Brian’s defence, swiped at his arm. “Don’t laugh at him!” The defence was ruined by Freddie fighting back his own giggles. “Oh, Brian, dear…” Freddie looked to John and then back at Brian. “Oh no look you’ve scandalised poor Deacy.”

Brian looked to John, who had taken to leaning the lower part of his face in his right hand, either trying not to obviously hide his embarrassment or hide his urge to laugh with Roger. EIther way, his face was quite red.

“Sorry, Deacy.” Brian said.

John shook his head and half waved his hand as if waving Brian’s apologies away but not quite daring to remove his hand from his face fully. “No. No it’s… fine. Though i’m not sure i’d be, erm… interested in orgies either, Brian, if i’m honest.”

“Especially now you’ve got a girlfriend, dear.” Freddie interjected, helpfully.

“Quite.” John said, nodding, and this time very obviously biting back laughter.

“Alright alright,” Brian said, sitting back sighing, “No need to make fun of me.”

“Oh theres plenty need, you're still you after all.” Roger said. He meant it jokingly, it was obvious from the look on Roger’s face, but it still stung. The fact the joke landed badly clearly shown on his face because Roger’s face softened. “Sorry Bri, that was a bad joke.” He fidgedted in his seat and then cocked his head, “Look it's really fine mate. You wanna know why?”

“Why?” Brian asked, curious.

“Because it's who you are and we're not stupid bigots to hold that against you, and…” Brian braced himself as Roger’s customary smirk made it back on to his face. “When we get rich and famous, which we will, it leaves the jimi Hendrix level orgies for me. All to myself! Rock and roll!”

“Oh for god sake's.” Brian smiled despite himself. He looked at Roger, who was grinning cocklily at him. Brian shook his head and stood up, then walked over to the sink, which was full of the dishes he’d cleared just before. He started running the hot water, oblivious as the other three looked on in concern. 

“It would be a good balance, dear.” Freddie said, clearly trying for a balance between Roger’s silliness and the sensitive issue at hand. “Roger can be kept busy whilst we do important things like set the world to rights.”

“Exactly!” Roger said, “Can’t say fairer than that, can you?”

Brian, inexplicably, did find their response in good humour. “Not whilst drunk, no.” He set to washing one of the bowls and then considered how many potatoes he had left in his veg rack that were about to turn and considered his guests. 

“Would you like any more crisps? Deacy?”

“Oh don't go through any trouble on my account.” Deacy said, waving off the offer.

“These potatoes are beginning to sprout so I have to do something with them and I’m sick of eating jacket potatoes.”

“If I shut up now,” Roger said, “Will you make some mint crisps for me?”

Brian pretended to consider it for a moment. “No.” Then got a potato out to slice into crisps, followed by taking some leaves from the mint plant his Mum had given him as part of the small “herb garden” set, which he’d already taken leaves from the other plants for, for the last lot of crisps. 

“How about a game of Scrabble?” Freddie offered, before Roger could kick off and take this peaceful Sunday into a terrible direction he didn’t fancy bothering with.

“Yeah, alright.” Brian agreed. 

“Alright then,” Freddie said, standing up, “Important meeting over, all those in favour of Brian’s new found sexuality say aye. Aye. Let’s play scrabble.”

Brian had to put the knife down as his shoulders shook with laughter.  _ With friends like these…  _ He thought, rather happily for the first time in too long a time.

Roger came over to him at the counter as the other two left the room. “Want my help considering I ate most of the last lot?”. All bickering between them dropped and forgotten, just like normal.

“And have a repeat of June, 1969? No thank you. “ Brian nodded to his living room, “You set up the Scrabble, I'll make the crisps and join you in about ten minutes.”

“Alright then. See you in there.” Roger patted him on the shoulder and left the kitchen.

He wasn’t alone in the kitchen for long. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before he heard the soft foot falls of Freddie coming back as Brian checked on the browning of the crisp slices.

“Bri, darling?” Freddie said, then came to stand at his side, leaning his back against the drawers so he was facing into the kitchen rather than out the window like Brian.

“Yes?” He asked, and he was quite expecting some ludicrous suggestion for the crisps or maybe Freddie letting him know he didn’t want any more but didn’t want to make a big deal of it in front of the others lest they be offended on Brian’s behalf. 

“You know you mentioned a pamphlet?” Freddie said, surprising Brian. 

“Yes?” He asked, and changed his mental tack to follow where Freddie was going with this. “I put it down somewhere but, well, you know me.” He fought the urge to shrug sheepishly.

“Yes I rather do, darling.” Freddie paused, and Brian checked the crisps again before looking at Freddie, urging him to go on. “I think I might have seen it in the studio kitchen a week ago. A black and purple triangle on it?”

“Yes!” 

“It was just lying there by the coffee and the kettle for a few hours, dear, and I didn't want anyone spilling anything on it so I wedged it in by the bread bin with the Chinese menus. It should still be there tomorrow.”   


“Oh. Thank you Freddie. I don't know what to say.” He could just imagine it though, Freddie knowing it was important in some way and wanting to keep it safe, without having all the context. Then a thought hit him. “Have you known about me this whole time?”   


Freddie, surprisingly, laughed. “I can honestly say I had no clue about you darling. But,” he said, pausing, and his face softened. “That doesn’t mean it's a surprise or a shock either. I just thought you'd like to know where it was, incase you wanted to give it to Deacy to read. He does hate not having information at his hands, dear. ”

Brian nodded. “Thank you. Is that how you knew… you know, what Asexual meant?”

Freddie held his hands up in surrender. “Yes, you’ve caught me, I snooped. I hope that's okay darling but the colours on the front intrigued me."

Brian nodded again. “Perfectly okay. It made all of his a lot easier. And, er, Roger?” He asked, hesitatingly though he himself couldn’t quite figure out why. 

Freddie scoffed and waved the worry away. “Oh you know what Roger's like. Beauty  _ and _ brains, he is. He knows  _ all sorts of things _ . He might have snooped too, darling, but he also might have learnt it in biology, or down the pub.”

Brian hummed in thought. “That's true.”

Freddie breathed in and then stood up from his leaning. “I'll see you in the living room, darling, alright? Can't leave those two alone for too long or they start plotting. And they've already had a head start.”

Brian laughed, because it was true. “Okay. Any requests for a crisp flavor?” He said, nodding at the crisps. 

“Whatever you fancy,” Freddie said diplomatically, “You're the one doing all of the hard work.” 

Freddie smiled and patted him on the shoulder, much like Roger had done. 

“Alright,” Brian said, more to Freddie’s parting back than to Freddie himself, and then he himself finished up with the crisps. He took them out of the frying pan and put them onto fresh muslin cloth, and then then went back to starting a new batch.

He pulled out the left over paprika that had come in a Vespa meal kit he’d had a few weeks ago, that he had been saving for a special occasion.

He thought through the day’s events, and it felt special enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read this and kudosed and commented. Thank you for indulging me!!  
> The epilogue, which I just wrote last night, is to come in a few days.


	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month later

Freddie quietly approached John from where he was scribbling away on a new song at the studio's work desk. He sat down next to him and waited for the bassist to acknowledge him before speaking.

Eventually John got to the end of his sentence and looked up. The tight smile need been wearing all day still firmly on his face as he placed the pen down on to the table.

"Are you alright, darling?" Freddie asked him, "You seem a bit down today, which has got me a bit worried, because… well it was only the other day you said your first month anniversary with Ronnie was coming up… is everything-?" 

Before he could finish his question John brightened up and cut him off. "Oh, I’m fine Freddie! Me and Ronnie are fine." He smiled softly at the thought of the width in question. "We’re actually celebrating our one month anniversary tonight, so we’re going on that student art exhibition along the embankment and then the little student bar by the bridge. Ronnie likes the hot chocolate there," he said, explaining as if Freddie had any doubts about it. "They put rum in it."

"Oh that sounds lovely, darling!" He said, and he meant it.

"Yeah." John said rather wistfully.

"Well then why the long face all day?"

John's smile dropped and he sighed. "Do you remember that essay I wrote? The competition one?"

"The one for the lightbulbs?" Freddie asked, as if he could ever forget it.

"Yeah," John said rather flatly, looking down. "That’s the one."

"Oh dear," Freddie said, catching on. "Did you not get the lightbulbs?"

"No." John replied shaking his head. He distracted himself from the anguish by straightening up his song notes in front of him, but still tutted to himself. "I had a lot of plans for them, as well. You’d have loved it, Freddie!" He exclaimed, distraught. "Had a whole rig drawn up and everything!"

"Oh lovie, i’m sorry." Freddie said, squeezing the young man's week in comfort. It was hard to see him so worked up over it when so many other things hardly bothered him at all. "I’m sure you put a lot of work into it. It was all very thoughtful of you dear." 

"Yeah," John replied, sighing again, still looking down.

"But well," Freddie continued, trying to find some way to cheer him up. "There was probably a lot of interest from all sorts of students, all poor, all desperate to win something. I’m sure it was a very difficult decision for them to decide on the winners. You probably just missed out on third place by a hare’s breath."

"Yeah." John said, and at least time nodded. "I just don’t know who else would be able to use the lightbulbs like we would."

Freddie's heart clenched. John was clearly more upset about what it meant for the band than himself. 

"I know, the lucky person doesn’t know exactly what it is they’ve won, not like you would have."

John looked up at last, "I was even going to risk breaking the rules, you know? See if they’d be willing to trade some of the lightbulbs for the voucher, but we’re not allowed to know who the other winners are, and Professor Hastings said he doesn’t even know which means it’s not even a Chelsea student." He smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "Oh well."

"Oh i’m sorry- Not that I condone breaking rules-wait." He said ad John's words caught up with him. "What voucher?"

"The fifty pound voucher." John replied plainly.

Freddie looked at him in confusion, "… What fifty pound voucher?"

John looked back at him also in confusion. "Remember, the second place prize was fifty pounds. It’s in the form of a voucher."

Freddie thought over John's reply before asking "You won the fifty pounds?" 

"Yeah." John said, as if it had been obvious throughout the whole conversation. 

"Darling." Freddie started, and then had to stop to laugh, unable to stop himself from grinning. "Darling, you came second place!"

"Well. Yeah."

"Darling I thought you didn’t even- You won second place! Oh Deaky that’s wonderful!" He stood up and hugged Deacy, somewhat awkwardly as the other man was still sitting down. It did nothing to stop him from swaying them side too side.

"How is it _wonderful_? We can’t get the lightbulbs." 

Freddie pulled back but remained standing. "Darling, you’re focusing on the wrong thing. Yes it’s very thoughtful of you to want to get us industrial lightbulbs for a better stage show in the bigger venues, but you have FIFTY pounds! You can buy _whatever the fuck_ you want with it! Where’s the voucher for?" 

"It’s a London Shield voucher, so, any shop that accepts them."

Freddie laughed again. This man was a genius but clearly not still used to London. 

"Deacy, darling, half high street shop in London accepts London Sheild vouchers!"

John shook his head. "I can’t get as many lightbulbs-"

Freddie grasped by the shoulders and shook his head back in reply. "Darling, I say this with love, but _fuck_ the _bloody lightbulbs_ . When we become rich and famous we can get _all the industrial lightbulbs_ in the world that you want. A whole light bulb _emporium_! But with the voucher, you could buy…" he looked away from John to think, training the room as inspiration, then looked back. "I don’t know. A new amp! Strings! Clothes! Something for Ronnie!"

John looked at Freddie in surprise, as if he hadn't considered that. "Yeah I suppose."

Freddie clapped John on the shoulder before letting go of him properly and stepping back. "Right. That’s it." He said, addressing John. "Tomorrow, after you say goodbye to Ronnie-" 

John swatted at him for the implication. "Freddie."

Freddie winked at him before continuing. "You are coming with me and we are going shopping!"

John didn't look very impressed at the plan. "You’re going to spend my fifty pound voucher?"

"No no no," Freddie replied, shaking his head vehemently, " _You're_ going to spend your fifty pound voucher, _I’m_ going as moral support." Freddie could not fight the urge to hug the young man again and was pleased when John sighed and hugged back. "Oh Deaky, you clever but ridiculous man, congratulations on second place, darling."

  
***  
  
Brian pulled the door open and was not surprised to see who it was at his door, because they had had this night planned for two weeks now. "Rog, good to see you. Thanks for pencilling me in."

"Har har." Roger replied sarcastically. Brian stepped aside to let him in. "Do you not want this?" Roger held up a square brown paper bag in his hand, clearly with something big in it but no label on the bag to give away what it was.

Brian closed the door behind him as Roger toed off his shoes in the hallway. "Depends, what is it?"

"A brand new car."

"Kind of you." Brian said, matching the tone. He reached out for it only for Roger to snatch it back at the last second.

"I’ll take it eat it myself if you don’t want it."

"You’ll eat a whole brand new car by yourself? Greedy. Did your parents not teach you to share?"

Roger brandished the bag like one would a lantern. "I will stuff this into your mouth, whole." 

Brian shook his head, the ridiculous argument washing over him like a comfort blanket. That hadn't seen much of each other besides a couple of studio sessions in the past couple of weeks. It was nice. "A whole car wouldn’t fit into my mouth. Surely a dental student should understand the impossibility of the prospect."

Roger's face twitched in frustration, as if he wasn't sure whether to argue against the fact he was no longer a dental student first, or the implication that he was such a poor student he wouldn't understand the logistics involved in trying to eat a car whole.

Brian laughed at the expression. He really had missed this. "You are so easy to wind up sometimes, Rog." He patted him on the shoulder as he passed him to return to the living room. The movie they planned to watch together would be on soon. 

" _I’m_ easy to wind up!? _Me?_ " Roger shouted from the hallway, his voice becoming clearer as he followed Brian in to the living room, still holding the brown bad tightly. "Explain to me why a butterfly is an insect and not a bird." 

Brian blinked. "Because it’s an insect."  
  
"It has wings."

"It has three pairs of legs and three parts of their body, therefore it’s an insect. You did biology, Rog, you know this."

Roger shrugged, still standing by the doorway. "Didn’t do entomology though, did I? Besides. Insects lays eggs."

Brian felt his blood pressure rising at the ridiculous implication. "So do Platypusses, so do _snakes_ , but that doesn’ t make _them_ birds anymore than it makes _butterflies_ birds!"

Roger shrugged again. 'Maybe they are birds and we’ve got it all wrong?"

"We haven’t got it- That's Darwin-" Brian suddenly realised he'd fallen right into the trap he himself had set himself up for. He shook his head, laughing, and ignored the cocky smirk Roger was throwing his way, as if he'd proven his point. He breathed out and let it go. "Cup of tea, Roger?"

Roger came into the living room. "Yes please."

"Great, make it yourself." Brian said, sitting down on the far end of the couch. "You know where everything is."

"I’m a guest!" Roger said, then laughed and left for the kitchen.

"You’re a pain in my side!" Brian shouted after him.

"But you love me anyway!" Roger shouted back. Brian tried not to groan too loudly. He had only recently managed to convince his neighbours Freddie wasn't his _young gentleman caller,_ he didn't want to go through all that again because of Roger. 

"God knows why." He said instead, deliberately loud enough to be heard. 

"You don’t believe in God!"

"Makes it even more a mystery then, doesn’t it?"

Roger came back in to the living room just long enough to get Brian's attention and throw toss the brown bag in his direction.

"Here." Brian caught it awkwardly between a hand and a firearm. "Good catch." Roger said, as he turned on his heel and returned to the kitchen. 

"Thanks. I had no choice, it was hurtling towards my face!" Brian called after him, righting the bag in his hands and unrolling the double wrapped bag.

"And what a pretty face it is!"

" _You_ can talk." 

"Yep!"

He got ripped the last layer of the bag to reveal an abundance of sticky icing on both the bag and the item inside. It was like the machine had messed up for all the extra icing was in there. A cherry was stuck in the corner of the bag, also coated in icing. "Oh it’s a belgian bun. Thanks Rog!"

"Don’t say I’m not kind!" 

"Pretty, kind and so modest too!"

Roger scoffed. "Who the hell has time for modesty? We’re gonna be rock stars!! Hey, do you want a plate for your bun?"

Brian was delicately peeling it from it's icing trying to avoid getting it all over his hands, and made plans to go after the icing in the bag with a spoon later. Not that he was going to tell _Roger_ that. "No I’ll just eat it out of the bag."

Roger came in with a full serving tray for the tea, with the teapot, cups, milk and sugar. Brian kept meaning to throw that away because it took up so much space in his tiny kitchen but he always ended up putting it back for the sake of Roger and Freddie, who liked using the full set. 

"Thanks for this, Rog. Do you want half?"

"Nah," Roger said, shaking his head, "It’s all for you."

Brian eyed him warily. "Dare I ask what I've done to deserve this?"

"Absolutely nothing, but I thought I’d get you one anyway." Roger said, not sarcastically, not loftily, just plainly and it was clear be meant it.

"Thank you Rog." Brian said, honestly touched.

"When’s it start?" Roger asked, stirring the sugar info his perfectly brewed and freshly poured tea.

Brian looked up from his Chelsea bun at the clock in the corner of the room. "In about ten minutes."

Roger sat back on the couch, taking up more than his fair share as always. It was oddly comforting to Brian. "This should be interesting, a daytime telly version." 

"Yeah." Brian said slowly, "But what in the world could they even cut? I don’t remember any swearing or sex scenes. It’s not like Clockwork Orange." 

Roger took a few seconds to think. "People in underwear? Does Dave swear at Hal? Poor old dears can't handle that at three o'clock in the afternoon!"

Brian laughed around his mouthful of Chelsea bun and swallowed it hurriedly to save him from choking, of worse, having to spit it out.

"You know, I never asked." Roger said quietly,seriously. "Does anything we ever watch ever bother you? The films I choose, I mean."

Brian looked over at Roger and shook his head, touched at the consideration. "No. Some have been… a bit… not to my liking, I suppose, but they’ve never bothered me, not enough to upset me."

"Are you sure? I know I've been an arsehole but, like, say with Clockwork Orange, that's a bit heavy, if you don't ever want-"

Brian cut him off before he could continue. "That's one of my favourite films, Rog, I wouldn’t have watched it so many times if it wasn’t. But thank you for checking. I appreciate that."

Roger nodded and returned his attention back to the television, and sipped at his tea. "If I ever am an outright arsehole again," he said, angling his head over without turning, "You have permission to punch me. Not in the face though, that’s my secret weapon."

Brian scoffed at that. "You said your secret weapon was your doe eyes the other week!"

"It’s all part of the same package!" Roger turned to face Brian again, "You will let me know, though, won't you?" 

Brian took Roger's words as sincere as he obviously meant them, dramatics for violence not withstanding and nodded wholeheartedly. "Yes, Roger, if it makes you feel better, I’ll punch you the next time you’re an arsehole to me."

"An _outright_ arsehole. You can’t just punch me if I’m a _bit_ of an arsehole. I bruise."

Brian barked a laugh out at that. " _I bruise."_ He repeated mockingly. "How delicate of you."

"Oi! Don’t start with that, I get enough of that from Freddie." 

Knowing it could be a sensitive subject for the drummer, Brian dropped it and changed direction. "What is he doing today, anyway? He told me about Deacy last night and then babbled about the stall and then Jim arrived so I basically got hung up on."

Roger laughed at the Sunday. "Freddie? He’s out shopping with Deacy and his winnings."

'Oh god poor Deacy." Brian said, a hundred different nightmare scenarios hitting his brain all at once.

"Poor Deacy? Poor Freddie. He think’s they're going clothes shopping, accessories and stuff. Had a map drawn up of British Homestores in his head and everything."

"Where are they going?"

Roger shrugged. "Some electrical shop on Edgeware road."

Brian re-evaluated his mental image of the situation and laughed again at the new mental image. "Oh god, you're right. Poor Fred."

Roger hummed and took another drink of his tea. Brian went back to eating his bun whilst they waited for the channel to start showing the much anticipated television edit of 2001: A Space Odyssey. 

  
  
Meanwhile, somewhere in Edgeware Road.

"What do you think, Freddie. For Ronnie?"

Freddie inspected the psychedelic marble-effect bedside clock that promised to be shatter proof, water proof, earthquake proof, heat proof, _baby proof,_ good for ten thousand wind up/wind down cycles and, most importantly, efficient down to the nanosecond. "It's great, darling…" he said, standing up and schooling his face in an attempt to be enthusiastic, "I'm sure she'll love it…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as I know, London Sheild vouchers don't exist. I made them up. They're based on the Green Sheild Stamps department stores and supermarketshad between the 50s and 00s - the precorsor to loyalty schemes like Tesco Clubcard and Sainsbury's points.  
> Up here, whenever we won a voucher at school, it was either for a specific independent bookshop in the area, WHSmiths, or a collection of shops in affiliation with the organisation of the competition; And the Terms and Conditions on the back would say "Can be used in all participating stores across England, excluding London." and I always assumed that meant there was a scheme purely for London not to be used elsewhere in England. Because I'm not from London, I didn't want to find anything that might have been real incase I portrayed it incorrectly. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read, commented and kudos'd. Honestly those emails kept me going!

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's a bit minimal and the concept is a bit odd but I hope you like it anyway.


End file.
